


Day #7: Ribbon

by bookishandbossy



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, more happy fluff, the team makes an appearance again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2119575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookishandbossy/pseuds/bookishandbossy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The challenges of wedding planning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day #7: Ribbon

“Have a nice day.” Jemma Simmons says with barely-concealed rage and slams the phone down. “Explain to me how, in our modern age of connectivity where I could order a burger in Bangladesh with a tap of my phone, it can be so bloody hard to get a marriage license?”  
“We don’t exist anymore. Skye erased us, remember?” Fitz draws her against him and kisses her. “It’ll work out.”  
“Ghosts would have an easier time getting married than us.” she grumbles but as he works his way down her neck and across her collarbone, she starts to smile, bursting into laughter when he hits a ticklish spot. Eventually she goes up on the tips of her toes to capture his mouth with hers and they’re wrapped up in each other until Skye announces her presence with a cough.  
“From the way that you guys are making out, I guess that the license request didn’t go through again? Sure that you don’t want to go to Vegas?” Skye offers.  
“Very sure.” Jemma says firmly. “No Elvis impersonators for us. If this were the nineteenth century, we could just elope to Gretna Green and get married by a blacksmith. But no, there have to be licenses and laws and invitations and ministers and—” She let out another exasperated sigh and slumped against Fitz, twisting her engagement ring around her finger. Getting married was never supposed to be this complicated. Her, Fitz, a white dress, to have and to hold, a honeymoon somewhere in the tropics where no one could arrive with samples for them to analyze. But then her family had found out, then his, then somehow they had ended up with a garden wedding planned for July and a guest list of over a hundred.  
“We are in Scotland.” Fitz says thoughtfully, hand stroking through her hair as he pulls her more securely against him. “I don’t see any blacksmiths, but Coulson has to have some kind of authorization. If he has access to dangerous alien objects that could potentially destroy the planet, he has to be able to marry two people. We’ll still have the big ceremony and the garden party and the proper documentation, but we’ll be married now. There’s this Scottish custom called handfasting, where you bind the couple’s hands together with a ribbon…” The more he talks, the better it sounds. They’ll have the big wedding for everyone else, and this will be for them. A way to know that they’ll always be each other’s. “So, Jemma Simmons, will you marry me today?” he asks and her eyes light up when she says yes.  
Skye goes to find Coulson and convince him that yes, he does have the ability to marry people and no one’s going to question him anyway and dad please until he gives in and starts researching wedding sermons. May lands the plane somewhere in the middle of the moors and Trip tries to persuade Skye that the fireworks his grandfather used as a diversionary tactic would totally be an appropriate way to celebrate the wedding. After five minutes of it, Skye gives up and goes to find some ribbon and sequester Jemma in her bunk so Fitz won’t see her. “I hardly think that this counts.” she protests. “I’m not even wearing a wedding dress.”  
“It’s white, so it counts. Stay.” Skye says and then swoops in to hug her. “You look lovely, Jemma. Happy wedding.”  
And she looks absolutely radiant as she walks down the makeshift aisle in her white cotton eyelet dress, holding a bouquet of heather, and it’s very hard for her not to run to Fitz once she catches sight of him. Someone wrestled him into a suit that’s a little too big for him and even though the cuffs are buttoned haphazardly and the jacket’s in danger of slipping off his shoulders, he’s beaming as he looks straight at her like she’s his center of gravity, drawing all the light towards her. They clasp hands as they stand together in front of Coulson and she squeezes his tightly as Coulson begins to talk. Here we go.  
Their vows are the same words uttered by couples for hundreds for years. To have and to hold, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health. To love and to cherish, till death do us part. But the words sound new all over again as they say them, promising each other everything they can give. Their wedding rings are silver, engraved with a faint pattern of thistles that’s been worn away by the generations of Fitz’s family that have worn them, and they fit perfectly. Finally, Coulson binds their wrists together with a long plaid ribbon and everyone cheers. Fitz brings their joined hands up to kiss hers and she smiles at him over them. And as they walk back down the aisle together, hands still bound, Jemma knows that it is as simple as this. That they’ve always been together, since the day they met, and that whatever comes next, whatever this new chapter of their life holds for them, they’ll be together still.


End file.
